


Lily of the Valley

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Gift Fic, softe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: Astra recants the story of her first fight with her husband to their children, years later.





	Lily of the Valley

**Author's Note:**

> The latest ever birthday gift for @astra_dark

“What are you two getting up to in here?” Astra asks as she pushes open the doorway to her bedroom. She’s not particularly upset that her children are  _ here.  _ It’s just that they seem up to something. They’re hunched together over a book laid open in the center of the bed, and it only takes her a moment to realize what it is and gasp. “Oh! Be careful with that!” 

 

"We are, mama," Kana says. He looks up at her from the book and smiles brightly. Honestly, he's probably right. They're not hurting it or burning it or anything obscure. They're just looking at it, and Ophelia is turning pages for them. She sighs and pulls her hands in closer to her chest.

 

“Will you teach me how, mother?” Ophelia asks. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what she means. Astra walks closer and settles down to sit on the side of the bed. She puts her weight on one hand and leans over to look at the book with them. It’s full of flowers, all of them pressed neatly into the pages. They have dates beside them. She hums thoughtfully. 

 

“Yes, of course. It isn’t difficult at all--but it does take  _ patience, _ my love. Don’t expect the process to be instant.” They turn another page and Ophelia gasps. Kana covers his mouth like he’s shocked. Astra smiles. The whole page is covered, not just a few flowers here or there. The only empty space is small, and the date is scribbled in with a heart. 

 

“Be especially delicate with that page,” Astra hums. 

 

“Mother, what is this?” Ophelia asks. “It’s celestial! The little white buds mixed with the blues and purples…” 

 

“It’s pretty!” Kana echoes. 

 

Yes, she thinks it’s pretty too. She trails her fingertips over the page. “Your father gave them to me.” 

 

“On the night he proposed, perhaps? Or on a romantic evening?” Ophelia coos. 

 

“Oh no!” Astra snickers. “These aren’t romantic flowers. These are apology flowers. You see, even heroes make mistakes. And he made a  _ big _ one.” 

 

…

 

“Go  _ away _ Odin,” Astra says in response to the knock on the door. She folds her arms and turns to look anywhere  _ but _ that direction. He has a lot of nerve! More nerve than any other man on this  _ planet,  _ actually. But then the knock comes again, and unexpectedly, it’s not Odin. 

 

“Milady, I’m here to bring you your tea,” Jakob says. Astra gasps and turns to open the door of her treehouse. Jakob’s face is twisted up in a mixture of confusion and annoyance when she does. He steps past her with the tray of silver and she starts to close the door. 

 

There he is. He’s got his legs through two of the holes between the fence posts of the balcony, dangling while he looks off into the distance. There’s a bundle of flowers  _ beautiful flowers,  _ wrapped up beside him, and another gift wrapped in a box. 

 

She knows he’s  _ sorry _ but that doesn’t change the fact that he said it in the first place. He hurt her feelings! She’s not going to be won over with flowers this time. He starts to turn his head and she pushes the door shut quickly before she can catch a glimpse of that kicked-puppy look in his eyes.

 

Jakob sets her tea on her table and a little plate of cookies next to it. “Would you like me to escort him away from your room on my way out, Lady Astra?” 

 

Oh. That’s a very good question. She’s certainly mad at him, but she doesn’t want to send someone to throw him out. She’s not  _ that _ angry, is she? “Jakob, do you think there should be secrets kept between a man and wife?” 

 

He frowns at her. “Milady deserves a husband who treats her with respect and honesty. There are no secrets in your past that you withhold from him. Why should you tolerate anything less in exchange?”

 

Well, that's simply not true. Surely there are some things she hasn't told him. But he hasn't asked her, and she's not sure that she would withhold it from him if he did. She asked him directly and he chose  _ not _ to tell her. It was an easy question, too! Just… What brought you to Nohr? Why are you here? It shouldn’t be so impossible to answer. 

 

“I’m sure he’ll wander off on his own,” she answers. “Thank you for the tea, Jakob. It’s perfect as ever.” 

 

When he leaves she finds her tea getting cold and her appetite was never there. The minutes tick by into another hour. The sun starts to set outside, and she opens her door to peek out and see if Odin is gone. He’s not, and a chill is falling over the astral plane as night falls. She huffs. 

 

Odin turns to look at her and she supposes he’s earned at least one chance to apologize. “Come inside,” She mumbles to him. “Before you catch a cold.” 

 

He does. She takes the flowers from his hands. They’re lovely, really. She should have put them in water earlier, but if she does now maybe they’ll perk back up and she can use them later. She goes to fetch a glass vase for them and softly directs him. “The tea in that pot may still be warm. Jakob likes the enchant the metal. Have some.” 

 

He doesn’t move to have any, but he does sit at the table. She sets down the vase of flowers and then leans against the table near his chair. So she can look down on him, fold her arms over her chest… and perhaps so she can be condescending in a way. She’s earned it! 

 

“I don’t want to hear your apologies so much as your explanation,” She says. 

 

Odin grimaces. “I can’t…” 

 

"You can't what?" She asks. Admittedly she's frustrated, she tosses her hands up. "That's exactly what you said before; like you're bound to some secret. Why won't you just  _ tell me?”  _

 

“I will! Just not  _ yet!”  _ Odin shrinks into his chair under Astra’s scowl, but the scowl melts off her face because she’s just confused, now. 

 

“Why not?” 

 

“I’m not sure if the Astral Plane is a part of… well at the risk of sparing my life, I would rather wait until the next time our feet are firmly planted  _ there _ before I share my story with you. There would be no point in you accepting that ring if I  _ talked _ myself to death a week later.” 

 

Astra spins the ring on her finger. Is he trying to tell her that he can’t share his past because it has something to do with Valla? If that’s the case then he’s right--she would rather he wait until they’re back on Vallite soil before he says anything. But if that  _ is _ the case, there’s a lot more mystery to his being here than she was ever aware of… and she might be the one who owes him an apology. Not the other way around. 

 

"W," She clears her throat. "Well, why didn't you tell me that  _ yesterday _ instead of letting me be angry with you all day?” 

 

…

 

“Mama,” Kana interrupts. “This sounds like you were the one wrong. Maybe you should have gotten the flowers for Papa.” 

 

Astra snorts. “Yes, you’re right. But we were both wrong. He should have been honest with me the day before, so we never had the fight in the first place. And  _ I _ should have listened to him when he tried to tell me the second day. So this page is to remind us that being married means we both need to take turns speaking and listening.” 

 

Ophelia pushes gently on her mother’s arm. “But you’ve left off his explanation, mother. Please! I haven’t heard this story before, and now that it’s shrouded in so much mystery I’m eager to know.” 

 

From the doorway, Odin chuckles under his breath. He's leaned up against the frame with his head cast to the side and his arm positioned so his hand and fingertips can fan out towards his face. Astra rolls her eyes, but she finds it in her to giggle, too. When did he get here? When did he have time to take up such an absurd pose? 

 

Ah, but he wouldn’t be her Odin if he weren’t able to produce a drama in a heartbeat. “My darling daughter, I will tell you what it is your heart seeks,” He says. “For my mission has changed greatly since I first arrived in Nohr, but I came here to fulfill a quest. To find and defend the princess of Valla.” 

 

“That’s Ophie,” Kana says. Ophelia leans over and gently squeezes her brother’s shoulder.

 

"Yes, brother, but it would have been Mother before we were born." 

 

“Oh.”

 

"Quite right! And yet your mother had no idea she would be the heir to the Vallite throne when we met! Still, I found her, swore to myself to keep her safe, and since then I have never let a foul hand touch her." 

 

“Yes, yes,” Astra smiles, “It seems you’ve done a fine job.” 

 

Ophelia nods. “And your new quest, father? You’ve taken up another?” 

 

Odin folds his hands behind his back and strolls closer to the bed. He sits on the other side of Kana, who flops against his lap. He's still very young, and it's drawing close to his nap time. He tickles the side of his neck with the ghosting of his fingertips until Kana shrinks away with a giggle. "Now I protect the entire royal family of Valla. From monsters and night-terrors alike!" 

 

Ophelia falls back onto the bed and giggles herself. “It’s so romantic--Nina and Forrest will love to hear that story.” 

 

“It’s not that romantic,” Astra teases Ophelia, “It’s just a story about our first fight.” 

 

“And how you overcame it!” Ophelia coos. “I love it. Will you tell us about another? Are there more flowers in this book from Father?” 

 

“Countless,” Astra hums. “Some of the flowers from our wedding are in that book.” 

 

Ophelia lights up and eagerly turns pages and Kana equally eagerly falls asleep in Odin's lap. He glances up and catches her eye, and Astra finds a warm smile spreading over her lips, but also bubbling happiness overflowing her heart. 

 

This is what happily ever after feels like, isn’t it?


End file.
